Page 4 - My Story (final)

In 1937 my father’s younger brother, Ivan, married Jules Nathan. She was one of twins and the
girls were very attractive with dark curly hair. My mother bought a new evening dress for the occasion, it
was dark green moiré, off the shoulder and straight down to the knee where it flared out in a kind of
Spanish style. I loved that dress and thought my mother looked very pretty in it. Jackie was to be a
bridesmaid, one of four and they wore long dresses in pale blue velvet with short puffed sleeves. I must
have been upset that I was considered too young to be a bridesmaid, so my mother had a similar dress
made of the same material, only mine was short. I had pale blue socks and black patent shoes with a bar
across them and I remember being very proud of my appearance.

Sometime around 1938 my mother was ill and had to go away. I’ve learned since that she had a
miscarriage, a baby boy – oh, how I would have loved a brother – and suffered a nervous breakdown as a
result. Jackie and I were sent off to relatives. Jackie went to cousin Stanley and I seem to remember had
measles while she was there, and I went to uncle Ruby, my mother’s older and favourite brother and
Auntie Barbara and cousin Michael. They lived on Watney Street, off Commercial Road and they had a
back yard where I could ride Michael’s tricycle. I do not remember missing my parents or sister – I just
loved riding that tricycle!

Around this time, I had to have my tonsils out – I have no idea why. I certainly have no recollection
of sore throats or illness, but this was not an unusual procedure in those days. It could not have been too
traumatic an event because the only recollection I have is of being in a hospital bed eating red jelly. My
mother took me away to recuperate after the surgery. She and I stayed in Hove – I have no idea for how
long and I remember cold water and a pebbly beach and sitting on a wall while my father dried my feet.
Why was he there? Had he come to visit or maybe to take us home? As usual, I was quite happy and not
at all bothered about why!

Picture of me paddling aged 4

Another early memory is sitting underneath our large dining room table (Jackie has it now and it
is big and heavy and pretty ugly) with my sister, playing and swapping cigarette cards when Mr. Harris
came to visit on Sunday mornings. Cigarette cards were found in every packet of cigarettes of which my
father bought many and there were series of them – sports stars, film stars and so on. Mr. Harris collected
money from my parents, I believe for a health insurance called the Hospital Savings Association. He was
tall, with glasses and a small moustache and very distant. He had no idea how to talk to children and we
were happy to be ignored by him.

I think Jackie and I were happy to play together in our early years. She lorded it over me, being
two years older, and read to me and apparently taught me to read, although I don’t remember the
process. Certainly, by the time I started school at five years old I was able to read. Indeed, I cannot
remember a time when I couldn’t read. But if everything around our house and family was happy and
sunny Europe was in turmoil and Hitler was spoiling for war. I remember Oswald Mosley, the fascist leader
in England, holding rallies in our street and one time, we were returning home from visiting my

3